two surprising signs that one is aging

You go in to your gynecologist for the yearly indignity. And instead of the lecture on the number and spacing of your sex partners since she saw you last (were those all at once, or spaced out over time?), you get the talk about how you're at the age where it's time to start getting mammograms.

You go in thinking, how do I explain that, ah, thing that happened at Burning Man with a straight face? but it never comes up because she's more interested in your cholesterol count, which she has never mentioned before.

You are thirty-five now, she says. It's time to establish some baselines.

Uh, yeah.